<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Swiggity Swag by Kiiratam</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23036947">Swiggity Swag</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiiratam/pseuds/Kiiratam'>Kiiratam</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Monsters of Mistral [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>RWBY</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Action, Beehaw, Canon Compliant, F/F, Horror, Yang has PTSD</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 14:32:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,229</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23036947</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiiratam/pseuds/Kiiratam</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Yang is headed into the woods and mountains of Anima, trying to find the Branwen bandit clan. But what will find her?</p><p>Takes place between Volumes 4 and 5. (<a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/19983040">My BMBLB fic index</a>)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Blake Belladonna/Yang Xiao Long</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Monsters of Mistral [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1546306</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>34</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Swiggity Swag</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She shouldn't be riding this late. Not through the woods, over these hills  - mountains, the locals called them. But she'd thought she'd make better time. The map had been deceptive, and the locals hadn't exactly been chatty. All the switchbacks up had taken valuable time, and the sun was gone by the time she reached the top.</p><p><br/>
So here she was, riding in the dark, her headlight the only light for miles. Hoping that the town on the other side of the hill was closer than her map said. It had already lied to her once; why not again? And these were the <em>official</em> maps. What was wrong, had the wrong Mistral magistrate been bribed? She shook her head. There was just so much of Anima; Vale didn't sprawl like this.</p><p><br/>
A noise caught her ear, even over her bike's engine, and she slowed, straining to hear.</p><p><br/>
<em>Hooves? Yeah, hooves on the road. I must have scared some deer. Good thing; wouldn't want to hit one.</em>
</p><p><br/>
Something was wrong with that thought, and it took her a second to understand what it was.</p><p><br/>
The road ahead of her was straight, headed down this gentler side of the hill. She couldn't see any deer in her headlight, and if she'd heard them, they should have been close enough to see.</p><p><br/>
<em>...Why are they getting closer?</em>
</p><p><br/>
She turned around in time to see death coming.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p><br/>
Yang tightened a last bolt on Bumblebee, and wiped her hands clean with what had been a white rag. Seeing the grease was always a bit hard on her Atlesian hand, and the feedback wasn't quite good enough for her to tell by feel. She'd just have to trust that she'd gotten all of it.</p><p><br/>
Standing up, she flashed a grin at the waystation operator. "Thanks for letting me use your garage. Lucky you had the part I needed."</p><p><br/>
"Lucky for you." The old-timer shook their head, hawked and spit into the sump. "Not so lucky for the last owner."</p><p><br/>
Yang started putting her tools away into her roll-up bundle of a travelling tool kit. "Why, what happened?" She hadn't had much in the way of conversation the last couple of days, so she was willing to take what she could get. Even if it was just local gossip. "Repo?"</p><p><br/>
"Salvage."</p><p><br/>
<em>Then again...</em> "Were they in a wreck, or something?"</p><p><br/>
"Or something."</p><p><br/>
Yang tried very hard not to roll her eyes, and kept trying to pry free details, a miner trying to lever a lump of ore free. "What, they run into bandits? Grimm? Died of a heart attack?"</p><p><br/>
The operator shrugged. "Don't rightly know. Had a regular come down from the mountain with what was left of the bike in the back of their truck. Looked like it'd been in a collision. Hit a deer, hit by a truck. Hard to tell."</p><p><br/>
"What about the biker?"</p><p><br/>
"My regular didn't see them. And they didn't see a camp nearby or nothing."</p><p><br/>
Putting her tools back in Bumblebee's saddlebags, Yang checked her scroll. Barely afternoon. "Well, I should get back on the road. Thanks again."</p><p><br/>
They glanced up at the sun. "Too late to make it over the mountain. You should stay for the night."</p><p><br/>
Even <em>if</em> they were right - which was possible - Yang didn't exactly have infinite lien. She couldn't stay in a waystation every night - especially when it was barely past noon, and she'd already spent too much good travel time getting Bumblebee fixed. Besides, after the bluster of yesterday's storm, she wanted to make use of the clear days while they lasted.</p><p><br/>
Yang grinned at them, trying to put on a bit more bravado than she really felt. "Sorry, places to go, monsters to kill, sisters to find." Last time, she'd said 'bandit queens' instead of 'sisters', and that had just sent everyone into a tizzy, with a couple of people volunteering to show her the way to the bandit stronghold - that was in no way, shape or form the camp of the Branwens.</p><p><br/>
The old timer seemed to take it in stride, nodding and heading for the garage door controls. "Hope I don't see your bike as salvage too."</p><p><br/>
Which just set off alarm bells in Yang's head. Were they a bandit informant? Were they going to alert a few folks to try to bushwack her? Or just some opportunistic truck drivers? Or was it a final effort to scare her into buying a room for the night?</p><p><br/>
She'd have to be careful on this ride.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p><br/>
<em>What had they designed these switchbacks for, tractors?</em>
</p><p><br/>
Yang hauled Bumblebee through the last hairpin turn, losing most of her speed in the process. Literally hours of going back and forth and back and forth and back and - it was like trying to get closer to Blake.</p><p><br/>
<em>No, its not like that at all. I'm actually <strong>at</strong> the top, even if it took hours.</em>
</p><p><br/>
Tightening her grip on the handlebars, Yang tried to break out of the ruts of thinking she'd worn over the winter.</p><p><br/>
<em>Blake's gone, and I can't do anything about that. I tried to help; maybe it helped. But she's gone, and I'm still here. I can't wreck myself or Bumblebee over it. Pay attention.</em>
</p><p><br/>
Finally, she crested the top of mountain. She refused to have spent all day switchbacking her way up a <em>hill</em>. And it had been all day. Even from up here, she wasn't catching any sunlight.</p><p><br/>
Yang slowed, glancing up at the sky. The stars were out - no moon. Later than she'd thought, then. Underneath the canopy of these old-growth trees, it was either dusk or night. Bumblebee's headlight had been on since the bottom of the mountain. Yang pushed an old memory of switchbacks and starlight aside. Nostalgia had its place, and it wasn't when she was driving.</p><p><br/>
She came to a stop, putting her feet down and looking around. A decent enough clearing here at the peak - why they'd made the road run all the way to the peak was another question - and it was late enough to stop.</p><p><br/>
But - Yang looked over her shoulder. Saw what must be the lights of the waystation glinting below her. </p><p><br/>
<em>I barely made any progress today. At this rate, I'll be Qrow's age before I find my mom. </em>
</p><p><br/>
<em>Plus side, I don't think I have to worry about a bandit ambush. The switchbacks would have been the place for it.</em>
</p><p><br/>
<em>The road down from the mountain, though - that was as straight as could be, with a nice gentle slope... </em>
</p><p><br/>
Yang revved Bumblebee, without even thinking about it.</p><p><br/>
She laughed. "Okay, girl, I'll listen. We speed down this mountain, and see how far the rush takes us. Sound good?"</p><p><br/>
Bumblebee carried her away, roaring into the night.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p><br/>
Yang had plenty of time to see the downed tree fallen across the road. Long enough to look to both sides, consider going around. And reluctantly conclude that clearing it was the best option. It would be a few minutes work for her - who knows how long it would take the local magistrate to get this road cleared? And a roadblock like this would just encourage bandits to set up an ambush, and going off-road at night - even in a forest like this with light undergrowth - was a bad idea.</p><p><br/>
<em>Must have been yesterday's storm. Lightning strike? Too big for wind - unless it was a very picky twister.</em>
</p><p><br/>
She skewed Bumblebee to a stop a few meters short of the tree, thinking about how to clear it. Blasting through might work. Swinging it to the side of the road was iffy. She hadn't gotten around to putting a trailer hitch on Bumblebee, and trying to do it by hand - if she and Nora were here, then it would have been easy. But since she didn't have a pint-sized pink strongwoman, or Sun's Semblance...</p><p><br/>
<strong>Clip-clop.</strong>
</p><p><br/>
<em>Blasting it is. </em>
</p><p><br/>
Yang activated Ember Celica and her new arm's shotgun.</p><p><br/>
<strong>Clip-clop clip-clop.</strong>
</p><p><br/>
<em>Wait, what?</em>
</p><p><br/>
<strong>Clipclop clipclop clipclop.</strong>
</p><p><br/>
She spun her head around to face the onrushing noise - black and white with eyes that blazed red and yellow, big as an Ursa, charging her with lowered antlers, a motorcycle helmet impaled on one prong-</p><p><br/>
<strong>Clipclopclipclopclipclopclipclop.</strong>
</p><p><br/>
Twisting Bumblebee's accelerator, Yang tore off the road and out of the Grimm's path. It was going too fast to correct, and slammed into the fallen tree, the many prongs of its horns burying deep into the wood. Yang made the immediate decision to leave Bumblebee out of this, and swerved her bike behind the closest and biggest tree, dismounting and leaping out into the open again.</p><p><br/>
Bumblebee was just too valuable to risk. Not only was she the only way Yang could cross Anima, but Yang had put, at this point, hundreds of hours, thousands of lien, and more than a little blood into her bike. And as much as Yang wanted to put rocket pods on Bumblebee, that would have classified her as a combat vehicle - which you needed a Huntress license to operate.</p><p><br/>
The Grimm tossed its head, heaving the fallen tree away, to crash into trees by the side of the road.</p><p><br/>
As she ran away from her bike, firing at the Grimm with one hand and using the other to dash forward, Yang thought,<em> At least the road is clear.</em></p><p><br/>
Pawing at the road with its hooves, the Grimm tried to line up another charge on her. And her shells were just scattering off the lowered thicket of prongs, with only a ricochet or two actually making contact.</p><p><br/>
It was enough to goad it, because it charged, and Yang wasn't too proud to shotgun leap away from it, putting one tree between her and it.</p><p><br/>
Shrieking an eerie cry, it twisted its neck, keeping its horns from hitting the tree - and leaving it to continue its charge at Yang.</p><p><br/>
She dashed forward and to the right, trying to slide past any more course corrections.</p><p><br/>
It whipped its head back, trying to catch her with a side-swipe, but she'd judged her distances right, and was past it.</p><p><br/>
The Grimm's legs churned, hooves sending clods of dirt flying, as it pivoted around the weight of its rack of antlers.</p><p><br/>
Yang was throwing shells into its briefly-exposed flank, but the opening only lasted seconds, and it was getting itself set for another charge-</p><p><br/>
<em>I need to get close!</em>
</p><p><br/>
She charged first, propelling herself to the left at the last instant, trying to slide around to its flank again-</p><p><br/>
But it could learn, because it made contact with its side-swipe, catching her arm and clashing against her Aura. Yang went flying to the side and up, terminating her flight into the side of a tree. She dropped, managing to land on her feet, shaking her head.</p><p><br/>
And it was charging in.</p><p><br/>
Yang ducked around to the back of the tree, knowing that it could probably swivel its neck around and pin her to the tree regardless. But only if it could reach her. She ran at the tree and planted a foot on it, shotgunning and running herself higher.</p><p><br/>
The Grimm converted its straight charge into a corkscrew as it hit the tree, antler prongs raking a dozen encircling cuts on the tree. Yang glanced down at it, aiming as she fired Ember Celica above her - sending her rocketing down to land on its back.</p><p><br/>
Whooping, Yang let her Semblance out, her hair afire. Holding on with her knees, she slammed her fists into the back of the Grimm's head, firing as she went, pounding it against the impenetrable shield of its antlers-</p><p><br/>
She fell through the oily smoke of its death, panting for breath. The helmet of the unfortunate biker hit the ground, rolling away. A final shriek of the Grimm went keening into the woods. And through that, Yang forced herself to look around, in case there were more.</p><p><br/>
There weren't.</p><p><br/>
Yang shook herself, and headed back to where she had left Bumblebee. Hoping that she'd remember to flip the stabilizer switch, and that her bike hadn't just fallen over with a crunch that Yang could hear in her nightmares-</p><p><br/>
<em>I wish my nightmares were only that bad. Instead, I've got rematches with Adam, and I've got more and more handicaps, and everyone I ask to help just leaves-</em>
</p><p><br/>
<em>Breathe in, hold it, breathe out.</em>
</p><p><br/>
She reached Bumblebee, and patted her fondly. Yang <em>had</em> remembered to switch on the stabilizer. Protecting her bike was something she didn't even have to think about, apparently.</p><p><br/>
Mounting back up, Yang wanted to just grab onto the handlebars and be on her way, but her hands were shaking from the adrenaline. So she just clutched them to her stomach, breathing slowly and deliberately, forcing herself to run an inventory on what food she could have for dinner.</p><p><br/>
<em>It's okay. I won. I can celebrate by opening that new bag of trail mix. It has Oozey Grimm, which aren't healthy, but are tasty. I'm okay. I even pulled a dad move, and 'flowed like water.' As much as I can flow with shotgun dashes. Trail mix, and a ramen pack, with some of the veggies I bought at the last waystation. I won. </em>
</p><p><br/>
<em>Breathe in, hold it, breathe out.</em>
</p><p><br/>
Yang reached out and lightly placed her hands on Bumblebee's handlebars. No more shaking. She started back to the road, easing into her seat, slowly picking up speed.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>